Nothing in Return
by I-Am-Jacks-Smirking-Revenge
Summary: A series of loving, but not being loved in return. Centered around Ron and Draco... SLASH (D'oh(WIP)
1. In Your Shadow

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.  
  
In Your Shadow  
Part I of the 'Nothing in Return' series  
  
  
Look at me.  
  
Don't you see me?  
  
Am I really that invisible to you?  
  
I guess so. After all, you are the great Harry Potter, aren't you? And me? Well, I'm just that small figure that walks behind you, in your long, dark shadow.  
  
It's always been that way. It was my brothers first, and now it's you. At least no one expects me to live up to you. No one, that is, except for you. That's not true, you say? Then why do you always let me follow along? Why do you wait up every couple of strides, with that look… That 'Why can't you keep up? It's not that hard. Hermione does it.' look upon your face, torturing me so mercilessly. I know you can't see me…  
  
If you could, then you would that I weep for such pathetic reasons at night, while you're asleep. I cry because you looked at Cho that adoring way, or because you chuckled a little when I slipped earlier, or because we got into a little fight… It used to only happen once in a while, after a few incidents had piled up. But now, now it happens every night. I cry and choke and feebly convince myself that I can't tell anyone… how pathetic would you see me as then?  
  
I suppose that you can't see that I love you, either. If you could, then wouldn't you be disgusted with me? Maybe you do know, maybe you just don't care… That would be much worse.  
  
I also suppose you don't know that I feel pity-actual pity- for poor Draco Malfoy. Why? Oh, how horrible it must be, to have to live up to the expectations of people who don't care a smidgen about you… I always wondered who Draco Malfoy is. Because I know I've never met the real thing before. I only ever fight with him because of the things he says to you… He's so mean, nasty to you, that I can't stand it. Sometimes the things he says are enough to make me fume for weeks.  
  
I had a dream, once. In the dream, Cho Chang and every other girl in the school were throwing themselves at your feet. You looked aver them all, as if you didn't even know that they were there. Then your eyes landed on me, and you smiled. I makeup pretend stories in my head that we really are a couple, secretly, and every time you smile at me, it's a sign that we're going to meet up that night.  
  
But my dreams are not your dreams. One thing after another, and it's obvious you don't love me, because you're constantly leading me into danger. Not that I wouldn't willingly follow you off the face of the Earth, if it would make you happy.  
  
I guess it's sort of hard to know I'm here, in your shadow. It is kind of dark. But if I had one wish in the world, Harry Potter, then it would be for you to see me, stranded in this place of forlorn misery.  
  
For now, though, I guess it will just have to be enough for you to glance back every once in a while, and call out to me.  
  
"Hurry up…"  
  
Hurry and catch up, Ron Weasley. 


	2. Hating You For Him

Part II: Hating You For Him  
  
  
I hate you, Harry Potter.  
  
I hate you in ways so deep that you could never even know.  
  
You think it's because of my father?  
  
Or because of Lord Voldemort?  
  
Hah!  
  
That may be why it started… But don't you remember? I asked if you wanted to become my friend… Our very first year… Do you remember? I knew who you were. Do you really believe, that if I was so loyal to Voldemort, or my father, that that thought would have even have crossed my mind?  
  
No. I have better reasons to hate you.  
  
Only one reason actually. The best reason in the world, and you don't even know… Don't even care… My one reason, one reason enough to make me hate you, is standing next to you right now. And he's looking at you with such a sad expression on his face. Can't you see that he's been crying, Potter? Can't you tell, can't you sense it? How he loves you… And I will never understand why.  
  
Yes, Potter, I have… Feelings… for your 'best friend'. Yes, I am in love with Ron Weasley.  
  
How can you do the things you do to him? He has such sweet brown eyes… I will never know them the way you do. They stare at you with love, and they stare at me with hate. Even though I have never seen them shine, in any light of happiness, it's still a special treat, a delicious one, to see them at all.  
  
I really didn't think about it, Potter, but I saw it today in potions for the first time. You don't look at his eyes. You don't even look at him. Just straight through him, like he doesn't matter.  
  
If I had him the way you do, I would lay the world at his feet. I would move mountains for him, and give him everything that I owned. I would get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness if I ever made him sad. You have him. And what do you do? You use him as a door mat.  
  
It makes me seethe. It makes me so angry, so angry. You have the best thing in the world, and you treat him like garbage.  
  
Let me tell you something, Harry Potter. If I could, and I can, I would rip you limb from limb. If I could, and I can, I would tie you up and bury you up to your neck on the beach, where I would wait for high tide with a smile on my face. And if I could, and I can, I would throw you off the highest tower of the largest castle, and laugh with the first wave of joy that I have never felt before. I can. But I can't. And I can't, only because he loves you.  
  
I'm going to carve something into my leg tonight. On my thigh, so that I will always know. It will just me simple, and it will probably scar. That would be a good thing.  
  
It's probably going to say something stupid and sappy. Something like this:  
  
Draco will love Ron forever.  
  
`````TBC`````` 


	3. Poems

Part III: Poem Writing  
  
  
---Ron's POV  
"Ron?"  
  
What?  
  
"Ron? Are you listening to me?"  
  
No. No I'm not listening, I don't want to listen and I'm not going to. "Yeah, I'm listening."  
  
"Are you feeling okay?" Hermione has very skeptical eyes. Even when she's worrying.  
  
"I'm okay." But I'm not okay. I'm not okay because Harry is sitting there, talking to that damned Cho Chang, and, Glory Hallelujah! here comes Draco bloody Malfoy.  
  
"Weasley. Granger." I must say, Draco, that I'm surprised you just walked right past us without a single insult. And I daresay that I may be feeling slightly neglected here. I'm sorry, Hermione, but it appears that my invisibility is rubbing off on you. Oh well. You don't seem to notice, though.  
  
I guess that I'll just turn my invisible self right back around and glower at Cho, while Hermione continues to talk at me, her words flying right over my head.  
  
---Draco's POV  
  
I cannot stand to watch you torture Ron any longer Potter, the way you are now.  
  
So, I stand up. I grab my wand. I march right over to you, and that girly of yours and… Continue right past. Ah, well, tomorrow's another day.  
  
In the confines of my dorm I pull out a sheet of parchment and a quill and begin to write.  
  
Dedicated to:  
The Wonderful Harry Pot-Head  
  
I snigger slightly at the line, and then continue:  
  
How do I hate thee?  
Let me count the ways..  
I hate the way you treat him  
Like he's not the world  
I hate the way you twist him  
Like you know what's best  
I hate the way you torture him  
And make him cry at night  
I hate the way he keeps loving you  
Even though it's not right.  
I hate the way you don't see him  
The way you know you do  
But most of a ll, Mr. Pot-Head,  
I hate you.  
  
I sit for a moment, anger rising like a great heat in me. I push the poem aside and pull out a fresh parchment.  
  
Dedicated to:  
Ron Weasley  
  
I can see you  
Like I know he can't  
I will hear you  
Like I know he won't  
I shall know you  
Like I know he shan't  
Please listen to sense  
You have a choice:  
Love or indifference  
Your opinion I await you to voice  
  
I love you and I won't go away  
Not today  
Or any other day  
  
The one person who loves you,  
Draco Malfoy  
  
Tears dribble down my face and smear the last line of ink. I hear voices outside and panic. I grab the poems, and toss them out the window.  
  
```TBC``` 


	4. Cake without FrostingHappy in Hell

Part IV: A Cake without Frosting (or) Happy in Hell  
  
---Ron's POV  
  
I watch as my breath makes visible clouds in front of me. The tears on my face have long since frozen, and I take a liberal amount of interest in the cold area around me and its oddly comforting effects.  
  
The air has numbed my skin, and, somehow, my heart as well.  
  
I can't feel the pain I did a half an hour ago. I can't dwell and brood on the fact that Harry just asked Cho out, that she just happily accepted. Not here, in this surreal world of white.  
  
I wonder how the cold could make so many people so miserable.  
  
I ponder this, and as I do, I realize that I'm not like other people. No, not because of the 'I like guys a helluva lot more than girls', but it's something else.  
  
I like to take the worst of things.  
  
Maybe it has something to do with never getting the best of anything, but I see it now, here in the snow. I like the cold more then the warmth. I like my cake without frosting. I'm in love with a boy who is supposed to be my best friend, but may very well not even know I exist.  
  
Wow.  
  
But my mind has no time what so ever to think about this further, because just then, I catch a glimse of yellowing parchment against the white. Curious, I make my way over to it.  
  
A poem.  
  
A love poem.  
  
A love poem dedicated to me.  
  
I read it, and read it again.  
  
I shall know you  
  
Like I know he shan't  
  
I'm stunned. The last line is smeared, so it takes a few minutes to make out… O8^Oo ^^^IEOY… Dra-Dra- Draco- Draco?! Draco Malfoy?!?!  
  
Glory Hallelujah. And the biggest surprise is the that I'm not numb anymore: I can suddenly feel the cold surrounding me.  
  
And I guess it suddenly hits me.  
  
I've been happy in hell. And heaven just came knocking.  
  
```TBC``` 


	5. Jealousy and Fear

Part V: Jealousy and Fear  
  
---Draco's POV  
  
I open my eyes reluctantly to the harsh morning light. And I had been having the most wonderful dream… Ron was in it, and so were all of these wonderful toys… I guess that my smirk must look a little perverted, because Blaise gives me an odd look before he scurries out of the room.  
  
With a wistful sigh, I pull on my robes and leave as well, passing through the common room and heading straight for the great hall.  
  
I notice right away that something is not quite right.  
  
For the briefest of moments, I can't quite place my finger on it. Then it hits me.  
  
'Draco?'  
  
There's Potter at the Gyffindor table, and there, next to him, clinging to his arm is… I can hardly believe it.  
  
It's Ron.  
  
'Draco…'  
  
My knees feel weak, my stomach ties itself in a knot. My legs collapse on me without warning.  
  
'Draco.'  
  
Everything is dark. I realize, looking out the window, that it's still night. Letting out a shaky breath, I roll and to my side- and freeze. Ron… laying right next to me?  
  
"Were you jealous?" He breathes, just before-  
  
"DRACO!" Someone's shaking my shoulders violently. "Wake up!"  
  
"Blaise?" I murmur blurrily, trying to shake off the shock of the dream. "What the hell? What do you think you're doing?!"  
  
"Hey, it's not my fault you've slept in! If you don't hurry, you're not going to have time for breakfast." He leaves the grumpily, and I find myself wondering, not for the first time, how a genuinely good person like Blaise Zabini ended up in Slytherin.  
  
But the thought is not enough to cover up the dream, hanging over my head.  
  
And I don't miss the fact that Ron stares at me all through breakfast.  
  
```TBC``` 


	6. Outside Over There

A/N The chapter where things FINALLY start to happen. A preemptive apology to any Hermione fans that may be insulted by Draco's language. I'm just trying to keep them in character! Also, ignore the Blaise I have written in the previous chapter!!! [Insert Evil Laughter Here]  
  
Part VI: Outside, Over There  
  
---Blaise's POV  
  
I'm a person who's not always there.  
  
It's human nature for people to cling to survival. And I do so by fading.  
  
It seems contradictory in terms, but there it is. As long as I'm just a faded wisp of a person no one can truly harm me. How can you harm something you don't even know is there?  
  
Unfortunately, being unnoticed has left me with some amount of burden. People are hardly afraid to share their secrets when they don't realize an existing force is near them. I know too much about the castle, the students and teachers... Even about people and... things that don't belong to this school.  
  
So now, walking down the hallways, no one sees me. They empty quickly into the great hall for lunch, and no one notices that I'm not there, amongst them. No one would notice if I were with them, either, so it hardly seems to matter either way.  
  
And it's not strange to me when I walk in on a familiar scene, unnoticed. A familiar scene, in fact, that all things different about it are thrown into sharp perspective, and it becomes clear to me that I should walk away, before another burdening secret joins the rest.  
  
But every person is born with curiosity.  
  
---Draco's POV  
  
"Come on, Harry, he's not worth it..."  
  
I have heard that phrase so many times now. But it's clear, made so as know-it-all Granger says it and then makes a pointed attempt at a haughty sneer, that's it's meant to harm me. It doesn't. But that doesn't stop a little piece of me from wanting to be harmed.  
  
The remark having not effected me as intended... it makes it feel more true then anything else would have.  
  
Potter growls at me, swipes, and, and would have connected if the Mudblood hadn't held him back. I feel the urge to tell her to let him go. Any excuse to hit him square in face would have been deeply appreciated.  
  
But something distracts me. Ron stands behind both of him friends, silent. His red hair has dropped in front of his eyes, making it difficult to tell if he's feeling any emotions at all. He's been acting strangely all morning. Through breakfast, and Potions, and whenever I passed him in the hall.  
  
I need to know what's wrong... I *need* to know.  
  
Unfortunately, I can't just stop this meaningless little spat and say 'Hey, mate, you feeling all right over there?' Then again, that would have interesting results, to say the least. Instead, though, I choose my worst possible option...  
  
"What's wrong with your boyfriend, Potter? Didn't you let him get enough sleep last night?" The perfect sneer, my voice one hundred percent sarcasm, with the accompanied toss of the head, and Potter is beginning to boil up a murderous rage.  
  
But there's no change in Ron. Not even the slightest flicker of movement.  
  
Suddenly, Potter's all controlled self portrayal and the picture of a matured teen. The only thing that gives away how hard he's working at it is the slight twitching in his left eyebrow, and the difficult way the corners of his mouth pull up.  
  
"You're right, Hermione. He's not worth it," He turns, his black robes swirling slightly around his ankles before settling back into proper place as he pauses and glances over his shoulder. "I mean, just ask his father." And then he walks away, a startled Hermione following at his heels.  
  
I feel a slow, red flush creep across my face. Okay, so he hit a nerve. I let out a calm breath. I've hit at least twelve.  
  
---Blaise's POV  
  
Harry Potter and Hermione Granger walk past me like a breath. They walked within three inches of me and had no idea I was there.  
  
Well, I am good, at least that's certain. My existence isn't, but I *am* good.  
  
The words I hear, though, make my skin cold and my robes feel a little too heavy...  
  
"Harry, what--?"  
  
"Don't worry. I'm not taking this from him anymore. I've got a plan."  
  
---Draco's POV  
  
I'm ready to walk away when I notice that Ron's still standing stock still. I scowl slightly at that, because it embarrasses me. A moment of weakness and he'd seen it.  
  
"You know, Weasley, you're impression of a wall doesn't work with that hair color." It didn't sound like an insult. Maybe I didn't want it to be an insult.  
  
I turn away from him and take exactly five steps when I feel his hands on my shoulders. I tense, ready to turn around and throw a punch at the last person I want to. When his forehead bumps gently into the back of my skull and rests there. My heart begins to race. His arms slide forward until his hands are as far out in front of me as they can be, and he presses himself against my back.  
  
This has to be a dream.  
  
I'm sure my heart is going to jump out of my chest. His lips are on the nape of my neck, soft breath colliding with the small hairs there. I concentrate on his hands. On the piece of folded parchment resting in them.  
  
Oh, no.  
  
"You wrote this."  
  
Barely audible. It's not a question, so I don't know what to say. It's hard to breathe. The still castle air seems too thin. I can't fill my lungs properly. But it doesn't matter. All that matters, all that the entire world is focused on Ron and Ron alone.  
  
"I-I..." Love you. *Want* you. I wrote it, so take me right here, right now? What is there to say? He knows what there is for him to say, though it surprises me.  
  
"Thank you..." I feel light headed. And everything has gone very, very quiet inside my head. It's just his breath on me. His hands finding mine. Him spinning me around. His hands sliding down me. His lips on my lips.  
  
It's all very real, and different then how I imagined it. It's hot and wet and definitely not perfect. There's desperation and need in it. But I found myself falling into it.  
  
Besides... that way... it made it more exciting...  
  
TBC 


	7. A Disarray of Strings

A/N I think this will be part 7/10. We'll see how it goes.  
  
Part VII: A Disarray of Strings  
  
--Hermione's POV  
  
I stand halfway up the stairs to the boy's dorm, a lump in my throat. Harry's acting strange. He doesn't usually get so worked up about these things.  
  
"Harry?" But my voice is hardly a whisper, difficult for even me to hear.  
  
The sounds of rummaging and cursing erupt for a moment from the room and I take a step closer.  
  
"Harry?" No louder this time. Something tells me that this isn't right…  
  
Suddenly, something brushes past me - something invisible. I watch as the portrait opens just enough for one skinny boy to slip through.  
  
"What are going to do?"  
  
--Draco's POV  
  
It only takes a minute to become one tangle of arms. A second to stumble into an empty classroom. Only a breath to fall to the ground.  
  
I've never felt this way before. Like crying and laughing at the same time, like I might have died a little bit inside. It feels like a thousand years of sentimental bullshit are singing in my chest and I hate it and love it all at once. It hurts so badly that it feels good.  
  
If this is what love feels like then I'm in for a lot of trouble.  
  
--Ron's POV  
  
Who knew? Who knew that one split second decision could land you the most beautiful boy in school? Who knew that a few kisses could heal and mend a crack in the heart? Who knew that finding someone so simply could make you look back at just an hour before and cringe at how absolutely pathetic you were?  
  
The cool, pale skin that's exposed to me, the thin limbs that wrap themselves around me so eagerly are enough to convince me that Harry Potter is not the only person in the world, and that that thing my mother always says - that your first love is very rarely your last - is very much true.  
  
Draco looks up at me with wide eyes, and I think my eyes must be pretty wide, too.  
  
What do you say? What do you say to someone who just saved your entire life? Normally it might be "thank you", but how rude would that sound?  
  
So I speak to him through kisses and touches, and when his eyelashes brush just barely against my cheek and my heart speeds up a little, I think I got the message across pretty well.  
  
--Harry's POV  
  
I wait patiently outside the Slytherin common room, and its not too long before my chance arises. Blaise Zabini walks steadily up to the statue and murmurs, "Chrysanthemum," and the door is revealed. I crawl through just behind him and follow him to the boy's dorm. Then it's waiting again as he pokes through his things, grabs a parchment and ink and then leaves.  
  
I pull the hood of my invisibility cloak down for a moment to breathe, then move to the most extravagantly carved trunk in the room - the one that must have belonged to a Malfoy.  
  
I feel in my stomach that this is wrong of me. How did I like it when I walked into my dorm room to find my things strewn across the floor? But I can't think of anyone who deserves to have his privacy breached more then Draco Malfoy.  
  
I push the gold latch aside and open it. The things are perfectly neat - what else could be expected? Clothes pressed, letters from home, neat stack of expensive presents. It takes just a few moments to find what I'm looking for, just a bit of straightening things back into place. It's hard to sustain my glee.  
  
If things work out just right, I'll never have to take it from that prick Malfoy again.  
  
TBC 


End file.
